


House of Worship

by Dior_Dior



Series: Leather and Gold [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, POV First Person, Romance, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-21 03:52:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14276334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dior_Dior/pseuds/Dior_Dior
Summary: Bridget gets a little cozy with Bann Teagan and Zevran gets jealous. Leliana is there to give some friendly advice to her Warden friend and Bridget tries to learn Antivan. Finally, Zevran opens up to Tabris about his last job, and romance ensues.





	House of Worship

##  [ Leather and Gold ](https://archiveofourown.org/series/993096)

###  [ Part 2:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14276334) House of Worship

Zevran had been more than willing to let me stay in his tent for the remainder of the night, and sleep peacefully, but I didn’t. As tempting as it was, I wanted to be alone, and had slunk back to my tent, thankful the camp was quiet and everyone was asleep. In the morning I removed the wedding ring that Nelaros had smithed for me. He was clearly skilled; the band was smooth and the gold shone brightly. It was both delicate and strong and there were no scratches or flaws in the metal. When Bodahn and his son awakened, I purchased a delicate golden chain from the dwarf, and slipped the ring onto it. I fastened it around my neck, adding to the protective amulet that was already there. The ring felt warm and comforting against my chest, and I would use it in the coming months to remind myself that ordinary people were good, brave, and could do extraordinary things just as much as any hero. Nelaros sacrificed himself for me, and I was in his debt; I would not be here today if it were not for him. Indebted as I was, however, my life was completely different now, and I felt no obligation any more to wear the ring on my hand. It was time for me pay his sacrifice forward instead, and move on from that life: to become the Grey Warden I had to be for Ferelden, and for myself.

* * *

Our camp was about a mile away from Redcliffe, and shortly after dismantling our tents and staunching any hot coals we set out. The sun was not yet high in the sky when we reached the village. Even so, the brisk pace we kept had caused me to sweat, and I longed to remove my armour and itch my sweating skin. Pausing at a small stream, we drank and planned our next move before entering Redcliffe itself. I took the opportunity to rearrange my gear and enjoy the gentle breeze. 

Alistair called me over near a small hut, away from the group, intending to speak with me. I noticed a man on the bridge, observing us from a distance. Alistair looked anxious. 

“Is something wrong Alistair?” I asked him, while keeping an eye on the stranger. 

“I probably should have told you this earlier,” he half-mumbled, and I assumed something uncomfortable was about to come up.  
“Since we are about to go into Redcliffe, and see the Arl and all that, it would probably be a good time for me to let you know a little bit about my past. You see….”

I was not prepared for the news he delivered, however. Were it not Alistair, and were the circumstances different, I probably would have thought him a liar. As it was I was shocked by his revelation. He explained that he was the bastard son of King Maric, that he was technically royalty, and coincidentally he was now the only one of that bloodline that was alive, unless the King had a host of children running amok that the general populace didn’t know existed.

“So...you’re not just a bastard, but a royal bastard, eh?” I grinned and tried to make light of the situation. I could see the position he was in was not something he was particularly proud of, and if I was too serious or harsh I doubted he would respond well. 

He laughed.

“I would have told you, but...it never really meant anything to me. I was inconvenient--a possible threat to Cailan’s rule. So, they kept me secret.” He wrung his hands but he tried to maintain eye contact, letting me know he was truthful. “I’ve never talked to anyone about it, who didn’t already know. Everyone who did know either resented me for it, or they coddled me,” he continued, “even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it; I didn’t want you to know, for as long as… as long as I possible. I’m sorry.”

I processed the information. I was shocked and yes, a bit hurt that such a big secret was kept from me. Over the time we spent together, I felt that Alistair and I were becoming true friends. But I tried to understand. I could well imagine the treatment the bastard of a King got, maybe similar even to my own treatment--spite, resentment and cruelty. Who knows how he would have imagined I would treat him, had I known from the start. He clearly wanted to be normal, to just be a Grey Warden, to just be Alistair. I remembered how frustrated he was when Duncan assigned us to lighting the beacon for Loghain, instead of joining in the fray; suddenly that decision made a lot more sense. And though he protested to me that he had no illusions of gaining the throne, I doubted that meant anything now. Loghain, if he knew this secret, would surely see him as a threat.

“I think I understand, Alistair,” I said to him, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “However, I don’t know if Loghain will see things quite the same as you do. Even if the Arl were to take the throne...supposing he could, with his health, you are still probably considered a threat.”

He knew I was right, but simply said, “I don’t even want to think of this right now; let’s just find the Arl.”

“That sounds like a good idea...my prince” I ended in a teasing pitch, and batted my eyelashes furiously at him. He let out a loud laugh and groaned.

“I’ll never live this down, will I?” he asked.

“Absolutely not,” I said, and gave him an affectionate peck on the cheek. From behind us, someone cleared their throat and we turned around to see Zevran and Leliana. Zevran pointed towards the man who was still standing on the bridge, and suggested we continue. 

“Alistair,” I said in a low voice, “You will have to tell the rest of the group later. It is dangerous for this to be kept a secret, with everything that is going on.” He nodded and I turned back to the rest of my companions, motioning for them to follow. 

The man on the bridge turned out to be named Tomas, and he was both relieved and nervous to see us. He explained to us that undead had been attacking the village at night, and most of the Knights were gone in search of the Urn. He was forlorn that no one outside of the village had any idea of the threat posed from within the castle. Shocked, we immediately followed him into Redcliffe. We left the rest of the group behind, however, as I was still wary that anything could be a trap at this point. As much as Alistair trusted the Arl, after what he had just told me, I wasn’t going to take any chances that Loghain couldn’t have orchestrated something. 

I felt like I was being watched while we followed Tomas. As it turned out, it was only Zevran occasionally boring holes into my back with his eyes. I had no idea why--maybe he disapproved of getting involved in the affairs here? He definitely had a different set of morals than I did at times.  
Descending down the dirt path on the hill, the large castle came into view in the distance. From what I could see, it looked both impressive and incredibly sturdy. Undead or no, anyone would have a formidable time trying to force their way in or out. Though I hoped everything was as Tomas said, I prayed again that we were not walking into a trap.

My thoughts were distracted, however, when I heard Zevran answer a question Leliana posed to him about his tattoos. I was slightly jealous, as I hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask myself, thinking it was perhaps rude of me. I knew though, that Leliana had no such reserves, and had asked out of curiosity. She gleaned stories and information like a magpie, and this would be just another one for her collection. Even so, Zevran seemed to raise his voice a little while he answered her simple question.

“They are not all in places you have yet seen. I can show you, if you wish.” he said, grinning.  
I kept myself from glaring at him but my heart beat a little faster. He was not bluffing about the placement, as I had seen them all; along his shoulders, his side and his spine, and even curving around his hip bones towards...my face burned and I kept my eyes ahead. 

Leliana had no interest however, stating she was content enough with the ones she could see while he was fully clothed. 

“Have it your way,” Zevran chuckled. “Should you change your mind…” Either he was goading me or he truly felt no exclusivity to the activities we had engaged in just the evening prior. My chest tightened. It was his right to carry on as he pleased, but I thought we had something more than just a casual connection. How stupid was I? 

Alistair noticed my silence. 

“Are you alright?” he asked me. 

“Just trying to focus on the task at hand,” I said, and he nodded sympathetically. We had reached the Chantry. Upon entering I saw that a good portion of the townsfolk were making preparations for a seige. The thought was disconcerting, but I let my guard down a little. If this were a trap, now would have been the time to spring, and these people clearly had other things to worry about. Now we just had to deal with the unfriendly undead. Ironically, that was more pleasant. 

We were introduced to Bann Teagan, with whom Alistair struck up a conversation. Trusting in Alistair’s faith in the man, I spoke with him and he briefed us on the situation. He gave suggestions how we might help Redcliffe prepare for the the onslaught predicted for the evening. I made a mental note to do as much as I could to improve the morale of the townsfolk and the militia in the process, who were downtrodden, to say the least at this point. He also had about as much information on Arl Eamon as we did, and was just as concerned.

As our briefing came to a close, I again noticed Zevran staring at me intently, as well as at Alistair and even the Bann. Reminded of his flirtation with Leliana just a short time ago, my cheeks flushed ever so slightly. I felt embarrassed; here I was, a Grey Warden, tasked with trying to save an entire village from destruction from supernatural forces and a dying Arl, and yet I allowed this elf, this assassin, this self-professed “professional lover” to get under my skin. I was done with it. I no longer had to answer to anyone--not humans, not elves, not dwarves, not kings or queens nor any authority but my own; such was my privilege for the burden in my blood. If Zevran wished to fool around with me, I wasn’t going to let myself be a fool. 

Teagan was indicating that his part in the conversation was over, and duty called, but I stopped him. I made sure that Zevran was paying close attention to what I was doing. 

“Bann Teagan.” The man turned to look at me once more. He was handsome, well spoken and stood several inches taller than me, so I cocked my hip and looked upwards at him, angling my face ever so slightly. I had noticed him taking a glance or two at me during our previous conversation, and took a chance. 

“I would like to get to know you a little better.”

“This seems hardly the time,” he said, remarking that we had much to do before nightfall. But I was not dissuaded.

“There is daylight enough,” I said, changing the pitch in my voice. “Come, it would be acceptable to indulge me a bit before I waltz into battle, would it not? I do not think knowing a little about you is too much to ask.”  
I raised an eyebrow and he stuttered, apologizing. 

“My apologies, my lady, what is it that you would wish to know?”

“I was interested in knowing if you had family waiting for you, back in Rainesfere?”

“Oh… No, I am not married, I have never had the pleasure,” some colour came to his cheeks and out of the corner of my eyes I saw Zevran’s eyes narrow, ever so slightly.

Teagan produced a warm smile and added, “I’m sure that if I were to, I would be quite lucky to find a woman as lovely as yourself.”

I swayed ever so slightly towards him and giggled. “You are too kind to flatter me so, Teagan.” As a Grey Warden, I was relatively positive I had the authority to drop the honorific of Bann before his name, and did so to show both familiarity and my own status.

He smiled and asked if I myself were married.

Almost, was what I thought, but put it aside. I was moving on now.

“No, indeed I am not,” I said. 

“Surely, that is a crime somewhere,” he said flirtatiously. 

“Then I will have to look into resolving the issue,” I said, “I would hate to seem like I encourage crime.” I glanced over at Zevran who met my secondary gaze with eyes gleaming like cold bronze, then returned to Teagan.

“I apologize, my lady, I should not be so bold.”

“No, do not apologize. The world lacks boldness, and the ability to be forthright without offending. I am not offended, certainly. But, we should perhaps return to the matter at hand?”

The rest of the day was spent preparing and fortifying the village. Our efforts paid off, and though we sustained losses, the damage was minimal and we were victorious over the undead. We rested well, for the few hours we had left before daylight. In the morning, we were finally free to pursue an audience with Arl Eamon. As we made to leave, however, we were shocked to see a woman who turned out to be Arlessa Isolde sprint towards us. She implored Teagan to go with her, and after getting as much information out of her as we could, he followed her back to the castle. Leaving directions with us to enter the castle secretly, we waited briefly to give them time to return, and re-evaluated our situation.  
I could tell by his demeanor that Zevran was happy to see the man leave our group; pettiness that both satisfied and annoyed me, while also creating an inexplicable desire. I shoved the thought aside and made ready to depart. While I inspected my pack and blades, Alistair and Zevran engaged in some discussion about Ferelden while Declan demanded belly rubs. Leliana sauntered over to me and spoke to me quietly. 

“I saw what you were doing yesterday, and I have to say, I’m somewhat impressed.” 

“You mean with killing the undead? We...we were all doing that.” I was confused.

“No, no not that,” she said, “I mean, in the Chantry when we arrived, when you got a little personal with Bann Teagan.” 

“Oh. I was only--”

“Only making Zevran jealous? I saw him staring the whole time, I thought he was going to try and sneak up from behind Teagan and stab him with his daggers.” She laughed melodically, and placed a hand on her cocked hip. 

“I can’t say I’m particularly attracted to the Bann in that way, but I thought perhaps Zevran should experience someone else shamelessly flirting, for a change,” I confessed, and couldn’t suppress a slight grin. 

She chuckled again. “You would not be the first to use men’s attraction to your advantage; attraction is, after all, a tool wielded by everyone, whether they know it or not. Like any blade, some are simply more skilled than others, and keep it constantly sharp. Zevran is definitely someone who keeps his dagger polished. I think some humbling would do him good.” She winked at me and walked away. 

I realized, standing there and watching him play with Declan, laughing and cracking jokes in the midst of all our trials, that I wanted Zevran to want me. And though I knew that monogamy was definitely not his style, I was not content to have him simply disregard my own wants. If he wanted to flirt with others while being intimate with me, he was going to have to have my permission first. If that failed, then he would have to deal with the fact that I would mimic his behaviour; if he couldn’t handle that, then he would have to change his ways. 

Right now though, I was content to let him sit in whatever jealousy he may or may not have for the time being. We had to get a move on. I gathered us together, and we shouldered our packs before descending into the secret tunnel, cautiously marching towards the castle from below.

* * *

The next two weeks were a slow rush. Alistair had insisted that we preserve Isolde from sacrificing herself for her son. I admired that; if she had treated me the way she had him during childhood, I can’t say I wouldn’t have wanted revenge.  
But Connor deserved a mother, and Wynne was willing to go into the Fade. I sent her with Shale, Oghren and Sten back to the Circle with a letter from myself, imploring Irving to send us aid. We needed to split into two groups or risk the Arl’s health even more. Teagan mentioned that Brother Genitivi in Denerim had information on the Urn of Sacred Ashes. While one group journeyed to the Circle, the rest of us would trek to Denerim. The Arlessa lent us horses to speed our travel; we would be able to make it within a week or less if we rode hard. By the time we returned, hopefully Connor would be liberated.

At the last moment, Zevran opted to return to the Circle with Wynne. He stated that he had reason to avoid Denerim so soon after parting ways with the Crows--they would certainly have spies in the large city who would spell trouble for us. Though I was reluctant to leave him behind, I couldn’t deny his reasoning; we couldn’t have anything slow us down either, and he stayed. In the end, Declan and I hastened towards Denerim with Alistair, Leliana and Morrigan. 

How long had it been since I was within the city’s walls? A lifetime ago, it seemed. The journey was tiresome, and we passed the time alternating stories. We talked about our families and our upbringings, and we reflected on the journey so far. Alistair mentioned his sister, Goldanna; I remembered seeing her in the Fade with him but I had never thought to ask. I promised we would make a short detour while we sought out Genitivi, if it was possible. Leliana revealed the real reason for her interlude in Lothering before she joined us, and Marjolaine’s treachery. Morrigan spent most of the time pretending to ignore us, thumbing through the Black Grimoire I had found in the Circle. Even so, she surprised me one evening to implore my help and obtain her Mother’s Grimoire--which coincidentally meant killing Flemeth. The idea was terrifying, but I agreed, against my own better judgment. 

My companions were becoming close to me, close enough to consider friends and gain my trust. The days seemed to pass by quicker when they chattered, even though I would be exhausted when I fell into my bedroll. As much as I valued their company though, I missed Zevran, especially when we made camp. I longed to hear his exciting stories about his previous contracts, his home city, and even if I hated to admit it, I longed for his special attention and general flattery. It was less than a week since our tryst in his tent and I still got flashes of memory from it; he invaded my dreams, waking me up with longing.

“I don’t know what you see in that sneaky elf anyways, Bridget.” Alistair said to me one morning as we rode. Though Leliana and Morrigan looked elsewhere, I knew they were eavesdropping.

“I mean, he tried to assassinate you--well, both of us actually, and our friends. I think it would take me a little bit of time to get over that, especially before...before….”

I was slightly mortified but also amused, because Alistair looked incredibly uncomfortable.

“Before what, Ali?” 

“Well I just would think that the better way to get a lady into your bed would be with say, flowers or gifts or, I don’t know, poetry. Not an attempt on her life.” 

Leliana snorted and dropped her pretense of not listening. 

“You have never been to Orlais, clearly,” she said and moved ahead, leaving us to talk. 

“Well, if it makes you feel better, he did actually attempt some poetry.” I smiled, reminded of the awful lewd lines of poetry he had recited in jest. Butterflies exploded in my stomach when that memory was accompanied with the sound of his rumbling, Antivan accent and the hot trail of breath he left as he moved his lips near my neck, ears and lips.

I knew, at this point, that Alistair wasn’t jealous, he was genuinely concerned. Our traumas thus far had brought us close, but not romantically. I think, if I knew what it was to have a brother, it would be something like this. I also took his words to heart, and wanted to put his mind at ease.

“I can hardly explain it to myself Alistair,” I said. “My life, all our lives, are complicated now. We have a traitorous man declaring himself king, likely more bounties on our heads, a damned blight to deal with and at this moment, a mythical, magical urn full of the ashes of Andraste herself to try and find. When I think about that, the idea that I could enjoy the company of an attractive man who wants to spend time with me and “get me in his tent” is slightly less complicated, overall.”

He sat on his horse, silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried.”

“It’s okay. I’m thankful for your concern. I know if it was the other way around, I would try to look after you.”

“In no world would I ever be seduced by Zevran--I don’t think he even likes cheese...and have you seen his hair?” 

I burst out laughing. “Alright then, if you suddenly fell head over heels for Morrigan--”

“His neck would surely break on the way, if I had not already done so for him first,” Morrigan interrupted, before joining Leliana ahead of us.

“Morrigan, I’m wounded,” Alistair mocked a hurt expression, calling after her. “Never let me get intimate with that witch; kill me first,” he joked to me. 

“Duly noted. Look, I have never been in the position I am now, having responsibility, a position to uphold--power. It’s scary, Ali. I’m figuring myself and my role in this world out. Because it definitely isn’t what I always imagined it would be, growing up. I don’t think, if I even live long enough, I’m ever going to have a shot for romance, that I’ll have a home to place flowers in, or time for poetry or use for gifts. What I do have is a lot on my mind, and a friend who does a very good job of helping me forget all the things that terrify me. Does that make sense? I haven’t exactly forgotten the assassin thing but...we all have jobs to do right? Even the choices the Grey Wardens can have ambiguous morals, don’t you think?”

He nodded. “I understand. And, if it makes you happy, then I’m alright with it. I still think he’s shifty and I am going to keep an eye on him but...I trust your judgment.”

I reached across from my horse and grasped his hand. “Thank you, Ali.”

* * *

Denerim was disconcerting. The Alienage was locked off, and I had to struggle not to panic. I vowed to return as soon as possible to see if my family was safe; there was nothing I could do in the meantime. Being a Grey Warden in the city was dangerous and I had no other leverage to get in. 

Brother Genitivi was missing and now his assistant as well as the imposter pretending to be his assistant was dead. We had a trail though, and would follow it as soon as we reunited with our companions in Redcliffe. Our visit was even briefer than expected, due to the missing Brother, and Alistair and I went to visit his sister before leaving the city, since the horses would need a rest. 

It was a horrible affair. Goldanna lived up to the first half of her name, and cared about nothing but getting her hands on some of Alistair’s gold. I hated her. If it weren’t for Alistair’s kindness, I would have made her understand what respect and gratefulness was. Life in the Alienage was no better off than hers, in the exact same city, and yet she was nothing but entitled. I wasn’t shocked, but disappointed for Alistair’s sake. Though I wanted to tell him we should leave the miserable woman be, I agreed to leave her with something, and we walked out of her disheveled house 15 sovereigns lighter. I pitied Alistair’s tenderheartedness, his eagerness to meet her, and how his expectations crumbled like a stale cookie when he realized she was nothing but a greedy wench of a washerwoman. Previously, I would have tried to soothe him, but I remembered what he had said to me before we entered Redcliffe: that he had always been coddled. When we took a breath after leaving the house I spoke to him honestly. 

“Alistair, I grew up in this city, in the Alienage. It can be cutthroat, and kindness is often wasted. It doesn’t mean we can’t try, but you need to learn that in general, people are only out for themselves. Unfortunately, it’s best to assume that before laying yourself on the line for them.” 

He considered my words and thanked me. We stopped in a few shops for supplies before returning to our camp outside the city. I was now anxious to get back to Redcliffe, and to Zevran. 

Alistair spoke to me at camp again.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said.

“Well that’s always dangerous,” I winked at him. “What have you been thinking about?”

“About what you told me after we left Goldanna’s...I need to look out for myself, and take charge of my life, and stop letting others make decisions for me. I was thinking too about what you said when I asked you about Zevran; I need to take a stand and think about myself for a change, or I’m never going to be happy.”

He did need to grow a thicker skin, and lead his own life, but I was worried that my example with Zevran was not a good one--I wasn’t even sure if I was happy yet. 

“Alistair, I’m glad you took what I said to heart, but you don’t have to let me influence you.”

“No, everything you said made sense, and you’re right, I should be looking out for myself more, unless I misunderstood you?”

“No, you didn’t misunderstand,” I smiled, “But you don’t have to do it just because I said so, that’s part of the whole deal.”

“I don’t think you’re right because I can’t make my own decisions, I know you’re right, and I want to change my life. Everything makes sense when it’s laid out. I just...I wish I had seen this a long time ago. I’m not telling you this because I want your approval, I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for being there for me, and a true friend, and in all this blighted work we have to do, being the one bright spot that I can count on.”

I leaned forward and gave him a tight hug. 

“Alistair, that is very sweet of you to say so, thank you. I am happy you trust me, I wouldn’t want to fight darkspawn with anyone else.”

He laughed. “Let’s get back to Redcliffe.”

* * *

We returned to Redcliffe as quickly as we could, informing the Bann and the Arlessa that we had a lead on the Urn. We neglected to mention that Genitivi was missing, but they were already so consumed with concern over Eamon, I felt it was best to leave that part out.  
Wynne had been successful in entering the Fade and exorcising the desire demon terrorizing Connor. Irving was still there as well, monitoring the situation until we arrived. I determined to see him back to the Circle safely the next day. 

In Denerim, “Wymon” had been guarding Brother Genitivi’s notes literally with his life; the notes on the Urn mentioned some unknown village, but we also had a lead to the Spoiled Princess at Lake Calenhad. We would stop there while we accompanied Irving back to the Circle. I was sure it was a trap, but I wanted as much information as I could gather before heading to the village. 

We rode towards Lake Calenhad with more borrowed horses, and Zevran came up beside me. 

“How was your visit to Denerim?” he asked me. 

“Brief.” I explained to him that the Alienage was closed off, and that after finding Genitivi missing and killing the imposter in his home, we didn’t linger long. 

“His notes directed us to some village named Haven in the mountains, but the imposter tried to direct us to Lake Calenhad.”

“Surely then, _Amore_ , you realize that this diversion is going to be a trap.” 

“Oh, I fully expect a trap. I can’t say I’m not looking forward to seeing anyone try and stop me. I am quite done with being underestimated, and having my life threatened. I have a blight to stop. Anyone who wants to get in my way can enjoy my knife in their back.” 

Zevran laughed. “I see I was wrong--I had previously thought you could not get more beautiful, but when you talk like this...ah, you blind me with your radiance.”

He was a twisted man, clearly, and I raised an eyebrow to let him know I wasn’t going to fall to such thick flattery, but I was aware we were at least back to where we had been before Redcliffe, and so far he had not attempted to flirt with anyone else. In fact, if I wasn’t wrong, he was paying me more attention than before. Leliana may have been right. 

“Just be careful, Zev, if you gild your tongue much more, it might turn completely into gold,” I said, smiling at him before guiding my steed forward at a slightly faster pace to meet Leliana at the head of our group. I heard Zevran _tsk_ and chuckle at me as I went. 

I’m sure that I, shaky and still a weak rider, was not exactly an impressive sight to look at from behind right then, but I made my point. I would accept his attention, and enjoy the flirtation but I wasn’t interested in lies or flattery that went over the top. I would never consider myself extraordinarily beautiful, especially under these circumstances, and he didn’t have to lay it on so thickly. Though, even as I knew the ministrations were ridiculous, I admitted I enjoyed it. 

“Leliana?” I got as close as I could maneuver safely on my horse, lowering my voice so no one else would hear. We were the only ones up at the front and she looked at me quizzically. 

“Do you know what ‘ah-more-ay’ is?”

“The flat water creature, that glides on strange wings?” She looked confused.

“The what? No...I don’t think I am asking about that. I think it must be something in Antiva maybe? I don’t know if you know much about Antiva.”

“Oh, this is something Zevran said to you, I assume?”

“Yes, just now he said it to me. I think he was calling me it.”

“Oh!” Leliana giggled. “You must mean _Amore_.” She pronounced it as he had, accented and lingering on the vowel halfway through before rolling the last part off of her tongue. It sounded beautiful. 

“Yes...a--amooray” I tried to say the word, it was thick and had a rich feel on my tongue.

“Not too bad, but your accent needs some work,” she winked at me. “It is indeed Antivan; it means “love”, specifically used for women. For instance, if I had a lover or a close relative such as a daughter I would say it to her. I would call her _amore_ or, even more specifically, _mi amore_ , which is ‘my love’.”

Used for lovers? My face felt a bit flush. 

“Specifically for women?” I asked, curious. 

“Yes, in Antivan, some words are specific to gender. That does not mean there is not a masculine equivalent. In this case, Zevran could be called _amor_ , or _mi amor_. You just don’t add the last part.”

“ _Amor_ ….” I said, pondering the sound. 

“You said Zevran called you _amore_?” she asked me. I confirmed and she smiled again, deviously.

“Should...should I call him _Amor _?” I asked.__

____

I was puzzled. How had this happened? Unless he meant nothing by the word and it was used freely in his home country, he considered me a lover. That was someone special, important and exclusive to someone; not a leader, not an elf, not a Grey Warden, but a person. Despite the name, I did know that no actual “love” had to be possible, not in a more traditional sense, anyway.

Leliana answered me, “Ah my friend, that is up to you, and how you feel about him. But before you decide, let’s work on that accent, hmm?” 

She taught me several words and phrases as we rode, and I finally was able to use a passable accent, fluttering my tongue ever so slightly against the top of my palate to pronounce the sultry, rolling sound I heard so often in Zevran’s own speech. Leliana was pleased and I practised the words with her and repeated them over in my mind, memorizing them for a time I might need them. 

We reached Lake Calenhad and split again into groups. Wynne accompanied Irving along with Alistair and Leliana. I sent Shale with them too, as I believed Dagna would be at the Circle by now, and I thought she would be fascinated by the Golem. Dagna was so sweet, I couldn’t avoid passing up the opportunity for her. Shale would disapprove, of course, but considering she approved of so little, I was willing to risk it. I entered the inn with Zevran, Morrigan and my hound, leaving the rest of our group out of sight in case the trap we were walking into was more dangerous than I assumed. 

The innkeeper was far more serious and reluctant to talk when I moved beyond the realm of ordering drinks, and looked scared. I judged that he was not part of any plans involving the missing knights beyond simply being threatened into unwilling participation. He mentioned he had a wife and child to protect, and I promised him that I would take care of the situation.

“When I leave the tavern,” I said to him, “do whatever they normally ask you to do, or signal that I am a threat. I will deal with them.” I said. 

“Thank you, m’lady, I am in your debt,” he said, with relief filling his eyes. 

Shortly after exiting the Spoiled Princess, we were ambushed as I expected. There were nearly a dozen men I think, and they were incredibly strong. If they had taken us by surprise it would not have gone so well, but my remaining companions emerged from the dark and aided us to take the men down. I admit that I was enraged, and fought more viciously than normal. The last time someone wittingly tried to assassinate me I had been unprepared, but now when I had the upper hand I was incensed and vengeful.  
I gouged at necks, just short of instant death, and watched them fall, clutching in pain on the ground as they bled. I found a leg exposed, and sliced the back of the knees, then held the man before letting him fall, helpless, into my sword. Blood splashed across my face and burned on my tongue. I could hear Zevran laughing and turned to watch him engage in a deathly duel with a burly man in heavy armour. He had managed to knock the man’s helmet off but was struggling to get closer again, due to the massive axe the warrior wielded. But this man was marked for death, and I strode close, screaming with energy as I kicked him from behind. He fell forward and I smashed his hands with my longsword, causing him to lose his grip before I clutched his sweaty, bloody hair in my hands and jerked his head backwards. I stared straight across from him to Zevran, who was going to come in with a well place stabbed. 

“No,” I snarled at him, “He is mine.” I tore my dagger across his neck, cutting in deeply and savagely while the man’s blood poured over my hand. He was the last of them; the rest were dead on the ground and there was no one else in the area besides ourselves. 

“Take anything of value and leave their corpses,” I said. “I want whoever sent them to know you don’t fuck with Grey Warden business.”

* * *

It was dark when our companions returned to camp from the Circle. Shale glared at me and I avoided her for now. I was told by Wynne, however, that Dagna was one thrilled little dwarf, and had settled into the Circle marvellously. 

I had cast aside my armour and wore instead an outfit of linen trousers, soft deerskin boots and a warm woolen top. I was so covered in blood and sweat from the ambush that it had taken ages to clean myself off with frigid water. My leather armour was likely able to be cleaned, but I had worn it for so long that I cast it aside. Bodhan assured me he had items I could replace it with, and I would pick them up in the morning before we left. For now, I enjoyed the feel of soft cloth on my skin, and the almost weightlessness of it all, after being combat ready for ages. 

The evening was cold and I sat by the roaring fire in the middle of camp, absorbing its heat and massaging my sore limbs. 

“My dear, you know if you wanted a massage, you could have just asked.” Zevran snuck up beside me at the fire, and lowered himself to the ground. 

“I could, but I think I know how your massages end. Fool me twice….” I smiled at him, teasing. 

He smiled, briefly, then his brow crinkled. Looking me in the eye he said, “I wanted to apologize to you for not accompanying you to Denerim. In truth, I refused to go because the last time I was there, I was a miserable man, escaping the consequences of my last job.”

I was taken aback by the shift in attitude, but welcomed his trust in my confidence. 

“You want to tell me about it?”

He looked at the fire momentarily before answering. “Yes, I think it is time, I owe you this much, Warden. There was a time, I must tell you, before now, when I was a cocky and arrogant man.”

Mocking shock, I clutched my chest. “Why Zevran, I didn’t know that was even possible.” 

He chuckled. “Why yes, it’s true. I thought I was the best assassin alive, the best Crow to walk on Thedas. I constantly boasted of my conquests as both assassin and lover. I had a talent, if you will--I was often told how insufferable I was, before ultimately ending up in bed with someone.” 

His last words brought a flutter to my insides, and heat to my cheeks, but I was silent as he continued. 

“But there is danger of course in arrogance and boasting that I did not see at the time….”

I listened while he told me about his past with the Crows, and his teammates Taliesen and Rinna. Though not shocked, I was moved by his description of their friendship, and her “betrayal”. The poor woman was the only one who was betrayed, both by her guild and the man she loved. In the context of their profession, I was less sympathetic than I could have been, however, and yet I knew how jarring and defeating it was to be told that you are nothing. How brutalizing it was to be treated and constantly reminded that you are, to someone else, subhuman and dispensable--that your life was not your own and you could be tossed away on a whim. That was something I had witnessed firsthand, repeatedly. 

Perversely, I was almost jealous of this Rinna; at the very least I was jealous of Zevran’s clear admiration, and the fact that he actually loved her. But I was alive, and she was not. I shamed myself and thrust the thoughts out of my mind. I was glad that as cocky and arrogant as Zevran still was, he was obviously not the same man he was describing to me now. He was softer perhaps, more cautious and wiser. And now, could I really blame him for putting on his persona, for reveling in his skills when it was all he had, the only thing that kept him from the reality his Masters wanted him to feel, that he was a pawn to be used? No. 

“You once asked,” he said, “why I wanted to leave the crows. And the truth is not that I cared about leaving the Crows, but that I wanted to die. Trying to kill Grey Wardens seemed my best option at the time, so I accepted the mark willingly. Of course, we know what happened there, no? And here I am today.”

I placed my chin in my hand, elbow rested on my thigh and regarded him. I wanted to say I was sorry for him, sorry for his pain, for his past and for a life he had as much control over as I did. But there was something more pertinent I wanted to know.

“And now...do you still...want to die?” I said slowly, carefully. 

His voice was firm. “No. Indeed, I left Antiva seeking death, and did not find it. But, I have found something else, here, and that it is what I truly needed. And now...now what I want is to begin anew. I owe you, greatly, for this, Warden.”

“I am glad to hear that Zevran. And I am glad that you are here with us...I enjoy having you here.” I smiled warmly, happy to hear his words.

“And I am happy to be here as well, especially with you,” he responded. “Come, let us move on to happier conversation.”

Wynne had several bottles of wine she had brought with her back from the Circle, and we both filled our cups with wine, toasting the evening. Zevran and I continued to talk until the moon was high in the clear sky, and the stars shone brightly. He pointed out constellations to me, and I memorized them. Back in the Alienage, I had never paid much attention to the night sky. When your life is walled in, the endless space above you only makes you sad, and jealous of the birds who fly about without a care in the world. I focused on my fighting skills instead.  
Now though, I appreciated the beauty and reveled in the freedom I had, even if I was a servant to nations and my duty. Nothing compared to the feeling of breathing in clean night air while listening to the calm sounds of crickets and a fire crackling, knowing I no longer had to fear a human or anyone else breaking into my home, ruining everything. 

I stretched and yawned.

“You were impressive today, you know.” Zevran said suddenly. 

“During the ambush?” I asked.

“Yes. Quite marvellous. I have never seen you so savage, so raw, so powerful. It was quite thrilling, and quite sexy too, I might add.”

“Trust you to find a woman slitting a man’s throat sexy, Zev.” I rolled my eyes.

“Ah, but it is not about the cutting of the throat. It is the fire in your eyes, the purpose in your stride, the absolute certainty of yourself and what you are about to do. You, in that moment, are the god who decides life or death, and your righteousness would reduce any man to nothing. It is what makes a leader who demands following--a Queen who you would fall to your knees and worship without question; you command everything that one could desire.”

I eyed him warily but from his tone, he wasn’t actually just flirting this time. He was serious, and I believe I understood what he was saying. After all, we love the tales of the Kings and Queens who were glorious in battle, meting out justice and death to the wicked, leading us in dark times. But that he saw that in me? There was an almost dreamy look in his amber eyes and I joked, saying he must have had too much wine.

“ _Amore_ , I am from Antiva, I am immune to the effects of wine--our blood is practically made of wine by now.”

There was that word again. 

“If it is not the wine then,” I said, “then what are you bringing this up for? I think I had good reason to hand out a little righteousness, don’t you think?”

“Yes, yes, I wholeheartedly agree. I merely wanted to let you know the effects of your actions, my dear, and that if you were so inclined, I would be more than willing to show you the attention you command in your ever so devoted followers.” 

I laughed, and it felt good. He was so one-minded it seemed, and yet just a short time ago had poured his heart out. He had said he wanted to begin anew. I think we all here wanted that, by choice or not. At the very least, what I did know was that he was becoming increasingly attractive, and the wine was helping me with that. In this moment, I wanted to be desired, craved and cared for. I wanted to be rewarded for all the effort I made and good I was trying to accomplish, and be seen for someone besides just a Grey Warden. In short, I wanted exactly what he was offering me. 

“I would definitely be inclined... _Amor_.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised, and laughed. “I always knew you spoke my language, but I didn’t know it would be literally.”  
He stood and lifted me up by the hands before kissing me deeply. The rest of our camp was either out of sight, back at the tavern drinking, or asleep in their tents. I followed him to his, which was as I had remembered it from last time, littered with cushions amongst his bedroll and lit softly with glowstones. A bowl of scented water sat on the ground in the corner; a dweomer inside the bowl kept the water steaming hot, and the scent of flowers I did not know the names of filled the tent. No massages were necessary this time to put me at ease and he gently aided me to the ground amidst kisses. 

I was still inexperienced, but even if I hadn’t known objectively that I was literally in the hands of a master, I would have figured it out very quickly. Any awkwardness I might have felt, even after being with him once before, due to that lack of experience was erased by Zevran’s touch. 

I positioned myself under his half naked body and he guided my lips with his own, my chin with delicate fingers, and my tongue with his tongue. He trailed kisses along my throat, my collarbone, and my neck, making me shiver and awaking the deepest parts of me to a quivering heat. On his knees, he pinned me in place at the waist and roved his hands along my hips, working their way up my ribs and breasts, removing my woolen top before resuming their place on my sides. The entire focus was on me, and I lost track of time underneath him until a nagging thought crept in, telling me that I was supposed to do more, that I had no idea what I was doing just laying there. I tensed and he noticed.

“Is something wrong, my dear?”

“I--” I blushed and struggled to find the words. “I’m worried that I’m not doing something right; you’re doing everything for me and I feel like--like you must be expecting me to do something, no?” I bit my lip and closed my eyes, worried he would laugh at me, or worse tell me that I was stupid. 

Instead, he pulled me up gently towards him and traced his fingers along the side of my jaw, studying my face. 

“So beautiful,” he said. “Your innocence makes it only more so.” He smiled kindly, creating crinkles at the corner of his eyes. “There is nothing you can do here, with me, that is wrong. I will never expect you to do anything. Right now, my focus is you, my goal is your happiness; your satisfaction satisfies me. There will plenty of time in this world for me, when you are ready. If I wanted something different than this, you would know. So instead, let me ask you, what do you want, _mi regina_?”

I knew that word; Leliana had taught it to me. Queen--my Queen.

I looked at his face, golden in the dim light and framed by his tattoos and blond hair, and ran my fingers along his jaw and cheek up to his ear, feeling their softness. I pulled him towards me and kissed him, pressing my chest against his while he folded his arms around me in an embrace. Then I leaned forward and whispered into his ear.

“I want you to worship me.”

“As you wish,” he responded, grinning wickedly, and laid me back down on the ground before making the world melt away.

* * *

I don’t know how long we slept afterwards. When I awoke I could tell it was still dark outside, though dawn would be soon. Even so, I felt more rested than I had in months. I was nestled with my back against Zevran’s chest, sharing his bedroll under some blankets and furs. I rolled towards him and regarded his face; peaceful, sleeping and utterly handsome. Tenderly I nuzzled his nose with mine, and planted some soft kisses on his forehead, cheeks and a last one on his lips. His eyes opened and after a second focused on me. He smiled in a way that melted my heart instantaneously, like I was all that existed in the world and that was all he cared about. 

“Did you sleep well?” he asked me, voice husky with sleep. I nodded and smiled. 

“Excellent,” he said. 

There was a strong wind passing outside, and the canvas walls of the tent swayed slightly under the force. They would hold fast, but some of the cold seeped in and I shivered, pulling my arms under the furs against my naked body to shield them. Unintentionally, I stretched them down, placing my hands near my thighs as I would any other time, only I ended up accidentally brushing them against Zevran. I blushed, surprised. He had just woken up, surely a man’s parts were not always so...hardened?

“I--I’m sorry I didn’t mean to--”

He looked confused and then laughed. 

“There is nothing to be sorry for, _bella_. This is just normal in the morning...though perhaps it is your fault for invading my dreams all night.” 

I rolled my eyes half-heartedly, but smiled, feeling shy. I shivered again. 

“You are cold?” he asked me. 

His body was like a furnace, and I pressed against him tightly. My lower half rubbed against his and a feeling that was beginning to be familiar rose in my lower half. 

“Shall we help you warm up before we begin another long journey this morning, my dear?” he asked, rubbing his left hand on my ass and pulling my hips towards him. 

“Unnf”, was all I could manage to get out. The greyness outside the tent was beginning to lighten, and the wind was still strong.

“I don’t know how much time we have before daylight,” I said, even as my body rebelled against my words. 

“We do not always have to take as much time as we did last evening,” he said, before removing our coverings. The air hit me like ice, and I shivered while my whole body turned into gooseflesh. I looked down and suddenly forgot, however, when I spotted the hard cock between his thighs. I had no memory to compare it to, but it was longer than my hand was tall, and when I instinctively went to grab it, I found it thicker and heavier than I expected.

“Mmmm.” 

Zevran seemed to awaken more and my mouth was suddenly on the verge of drooling. I moved and took him between my lips for the first time, surprised by the softness of the skin and the hardness of the shaft itself. Not allowing myself to think or stumble, I ran my mouth up and down it, gripping with what I hoped was not too firm a touch at the base of it. He thumbed my ear and stroked my hair while I sucked, savouring the taste of his skin and enjoying the fullness in my mouth. The sounds he made and the response of his body to my touch turned me on, and I forgot the cold and even myself, focused on this task and hoping to make him feel as much pleasure as possible. I began to understand how he was content before to spend so much time on me alone. I could feel myself getting wetter the longer I went. 

After several minutes he stopped me gently and I looked at him, terrified I had done something wrong. However, he just pulled me to his lips and kissed me passionately for a moment, while reaching a hand down to where I was now throbbing . I gasped when his fingers touched me, and within another moment he guided my legs apart to wrap around his, entering me. 

I moaned, sighing, while he slid in and out. I found that I was sore from the night before, but there was a distinct pleasure to the ache, like the relieving pain of a knotted muscle being undone. I rocked my body into his, taking him as deeply as I could, while he kissed and caressed me. One hand he placed behind me and the other he used somehow to manipulate my swollen clitoris. I looked deep into his eyes when I could, until I had to close my eyes, tossing my neck back. Wave upon wave of that electric heat overpowered me, initiated with each thrust, and I held onto the precipice of the edge until I couldn’t, letting go and arching my back, clutching his shoulders and releasing an unintelligible cry. Within seconds, he allowed himself the same release, and I felt him empty inside of me, filling me and expanding, setting my nerves on fire again. Helpless, I held onto him while he embraced me, feeling as though I would melt into his body, and kissed him, tasting his tongue. 

I curled my forehead into his neck, and everything else disappeared in the scent of his body, the warmth of his arms, and the strength of his embrace. 

He tilted my chin to look into his eyes. 

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he said. 

And this time, I believed him.

**Author's Note:**

> I spent a lot more time writing this part than I did for part 1, and really tried to develop Bridget’s character as well as make the little tryst between her and Zev have some weight and emotion to it. Antivan seems to be some weird hybrid of both Spanish and Italian, so I have used some Italian words in here, but ignored the standard grammar. I thought it was important to keep some of the characters’ original dialogue from the game, but I have tried to mix it up with some of my own in those cases. Thank you for reading!


End file.
